I Should Tell You
by BibbidiBobbidiPercabeth
Summary: Jack is back in the Strike and Davey's idea for a Rally is a go! But Jack and Katherine still have some feelings to work out, not to mention the huge secret Katherine's been keeping, and how her father could jeopardize everything. Musical-verse; rated for some language, suspense, and my paranoia.
1. Chapter 1

**Whatta up? So, I was watching Rent Live last night like the Broadway trash I am, and during the "I should tell you" chorus of Another Day, my Newsie brain immediately thought, "oooo, what would Jack and/or Katherine be hesitant to tell each other when they were first meeting and getting to know one another?" The obvious answer, of course, is Miss Katherine Plumber/Pulitzer. So, I've whipped up a fun little one-shot that happens during those few measures of music between Watch What Happens (Reprise) and The Bottom Line (Reprise), and I think it's pretty good!**

**I realize that this is probably more of an explanation for the inspiration of this story than you needed, but I think acknowledging Rent as what gave me this idea is fitting seeing as Newsies also performed at the Nederlander Theatre. Again, more information than you needed, but I'm nothing if not a spouter of random facts!**

**Well! Enough lecturing! If anyone's still reading this, I thank you for listening to my rambling, and I hope everyone enjoys the story!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies or its characters, I just let them consume my soul! (Please help!)**

* * *

Katherine POV

"And I got a date!" Les exclaimed. Davey scoffed and whacked his little brother with his hat, and Jack took off his own hat to do the same. Les yanked his hat back and smacked Jack right back. I laughed, and Jack told Davey to start spreading the word about the rally while he talked to Medda. I was about to take my own leave when Jack caught me by the shoulder.

"Plumber, hold up a minute." I turned to find him holding the newspaper with my story, his eyes scanning it rapidly. "You really wrote this?"

"Yes, I did," I replied. "Took the better part of the night, but I think it's pretty decent. Um, Jack?" He still looked distracted, but maybe that was better. "You can call me Katherine, you know." His attention snapped to me, eyes questioning. He did have really nice eyes.

"We're gonna have to come up with a nickname for you eventually," he decided. "Kat for now?" I smiled and nodded. The only nickname my family ever used for me was Kitty, and it sounded so...childish. "This is very good. A hell of a headline."

"That's what the others said." I couldn't help the note of pride creeping into my voice. Jack gave me a slight smirk.

"'A modern-day David is poised to take on the rich and powerful Goliath, with the swagger of one twice his age, armed with nothing more than a few nuggets of truth, Jack Kelly stands ready to face the behemoth, Pulitzer,'" he read. Heat crawled into my cheeks; I knew what was next. "'Picture a handsome, heroically charismatic young man, all of seventeen, preparing to stand up for the chance to a better future for himself and for his brother.' Gee, I'm touched."

"Oh, hush." I pulled away the newspaper, trying to ignore the way that Jack's smile was making my heart flutter. "Those aren't the only adjectives I could describe you with, believe me." He chuckled, then his expression turned more serious.

"You really think this Strike could lead to a good future for me and my boys?" he asked, sounding almost like a child in need of affirmation.

"Absolutely," I promised. "If the publicity alone wasn't enough, I mean, if you can get to the point that my...mmMr. Pulitzer is willing to bargain, I'd bet you can negotiate to improve your salary or something." I felt a pang of guilt, but not towards my father. Jack should know. He deserved to know. Better I tell him now than he finds out down the line and... oh, what was I thinking? I was a reporter, even if I was currently blacklisted. I was supposed to be non-partisan. There wasn't going to be a down the line.

"It's amazing, Kat," Jack murmured, having not noticed my near slip-up. "You've known us, known me, for all of two-ish days, and you still believe in us so much."

"Of course, I do," I replied simply. "It's people like you who are going to change the world, Jack."

"You know, I think this is the first conversation we've had when we're on a first name basis," he said. I suddenly noticed how close we were standing, how we both held on to the newspaper, how his face was barely a foot from mine, how his eyes were fixated on me, on my... "Your voice sayin' my name sounds real nice." His hand was on my cheek, his thumb gently caressing my face.

"Jack." What was he doing? What was I doing? He didn't have any right to be touching me like this. I should push him away, I should punch him in his perfect, gorgeous face, I should pull him down and kiss him right now and see if his lips were as soft as I suspected.

"Katherine." His eyes were searching mine, searching for permission, I realized. I wanted to give it. What was wrong with me? "I'm sorry."

"Wh-what?" Jack gave me a gentle smile before leaning in and kissing my cheek. His lips lingered for a few seconds longer than they probably should have. But then it was over, and I stood frozen as Jack started towards the catwalk.

"I've gotta go, Kat. You gave me an idea. Thank you!" Jack gave me a wink before darting off.

"Jack Kelly, you get the hell back here right now and explain what the hell that was!" I called after him. I collapsed onto the crate by Jack's canvas, burying my face in my hands.

"You all right, sweetheart?" I glanced up to see Miss Medda Larkin. She came and sat down next to me and put a comforting hand on my back. "Did you fall under Jack Kelly's spell?"

"No!" I blurted out. "I, I wouldn't, I'm, no, oh, God, I don't know." Medda gave me a squeeze. "I thought Jack was going to ask you about using the theater for the rally?"

"Darling, I've been listening since that young man, Davey, came barreling in with his idea. Jack knew they could have the theater, he didn't stay to ask me anything." Medda lifted my chin, forcing me to meet her eyes. "He stayed for you." My heart seemed to be beating in my throat.

"Why me?" I wondered. "There are probably a thousand girls who'd love to have someone like Jack look at them the way he looks at me, so why go after the girl who doesn't swoon when he smiles? Who talks back to him, who doesn't have any, any interest..." My voice faded as I realized the lie I was telling Medda, and myself.

"I suspect that's part of the reason," she admitted. "But, sweetheart, look at yourself. You're strong, you're brave, caring, witty, selfless. You're his match in every way."

"Selfless?" I echoed, doubt filling my voice. A truly selfless person wouldn't hide her identity to be trusted.

"Yes, Miss Pulitzer. Selfless." The blood ran from my face as I jerkily turned towards Medda. "Don't fret, sweetie, your secret is safe for as long as you want it to be. But you know you've gotta tell him?"

"Of course. I want to," I replied. "But he, he all but hates my father, he blames him for everything, the strike, Crutchie being taken, all of it. Jack, he'd despise me."

"Katherine, when you love someone-"

"We're seventeen, Miss Medda," I murmured. "How can he possibly be in love with me?"

"Katherine, you said that there are plenty of girls wanting someone like Jack looking at them the way he looks at you." I nodded. "You have seen the way he looks at you, right? The way he looked at you just now, when he wanted to kiss you." I ducked my head, hiding my blush. "What did you see?"

"He used that line on me once," I remembered. "I asked him what he wanted, and he asked if I could see it in his eyes. I thought he meant my... well, you know. But it was me. Just...me." Medda nodded, a bit of pride in her smile. "I have to go! I have to tell him everything! Thank you, Miss Medda!"

I didn't hear her good bye as I ran from the theater, onto the street, and-

"Hello, Katherine." I came to a screeching halt and turned. "The Delancey brothers informed me that you might be here." My father stood like a statue, tall and imposing, his eyes colder than I'd ever seen them. "I never thought I'd see the day that my own daughter would turn against me."

"And I never thought I'd see the day that my own father would blacklist his own daughter from every news desk in town," I retorted. "What do you want? And why have you been having those horrible brothers following me?"

"Now, now, dear. 'Horrible' is an awfully strong word, don't you think?"

"I saw what they did to the Newsies!" I exclaimed. "At the Strike! On your orders, no doubt. Little Les, poor Crutchie, they showed no mercy, took pleasure in causing pain!"

"Those boys were damaging private property," my father replied coolly. "But I'm not here to discuss my career, I'm here to discuss yours." He gestured to a Hansom cab that I hadn't noticed waiting on the side of the street. "Get in."

"This feels an awful lot like kidnapping," I noted as I climbed into the cab. My father simply scoffed. "So, will you be confining me to the house? Forbidding me from ever reporting again? Or, no, I've got it! You've found a wealthy husband for me to keep me in line." My father raised a brow at my sarcastic tone.

"Not at all, darling. I'd like you to come and work at The World." My jaw dropped.

From the moment I'd decided to be a reporter, my father had made it very clear that he would not hire me because I was his daughter, but because of my reputation, which I would have to build alone. It was something I'd actually been rather grateful for; a chance to prove myself. Was it possible that I had...impressed him? He was my father, despite everything, and his approval, not just as my father but as a world-class editor, was something I craved.

"You're...you're serious?"

"Very. I even have your first assignment for you. Write against this Strike." Of course. Of course, there was a condition. "It's very simple. I know you've been spending quite a bit of time with those street urchins over the past two days. Write about their rash ways, their selfish attitudes, their disrespect towards-"

"No." My voice was small but it seemed to echo through the cab. "They aren't, Father. Do you know what Jack said at the Strike? To keep the boys from scabbing? He said that you think he and his brothers are gutter rats with no respect for anyone, and that you are right, unless they stand together. And they do, and they did, and they will. And I will be standing with them, and we will change the game. So, no, Father, I will not be taking your deal." He narrowed his eyes. "I will also not be cast to the side while you try and fatten your precious bottom line by destroying those boys' livelihoods. If I have to break into the press room and print the papers myself, I will make sure the entire city knows that you are the selfish one."

"I see." We rode on in silence. "In that case, perhaps keeping you close would be ideal."

"You can't do that!"

"While you are under eighteen, you will do as I say." No. No! The cab rolled to a stop, and my father pushed the door open. "After you, dearest. You may either join me in my office, or these young men will escort you home." I stepped out of the cab, ready to make a break for it, but the Delancey brothers immediately flanked me. I clenched my jaw.

"Your office."

"Very well. I'm expecting a visitor I think may be of great interest to you." The smirks on the Delanceys' faces made my blood run cold. "You may have heard of him. He runs that establishment that, I believe, Mr. Kelly's crippled friend was sent to. Mr. Snyder."

Oh, God. What on earth did my father have planned for the Newsies?

* * *

**Yay! Well, I mean, not yay, of course, but I did finish writing this in less than a day! Sorry to leave you with a bit of a cliffhanger, but I'm pretty sure you have a faint idea of what comes next. I know I said this would be a one-shot, but I think I'll add another chapter soon, depending, of course, on the feedback I get on this. I hope everyone enjoyed it! Please review, I welcome all constructive criticism, general compliments, and gushings about how Newsies should still be on Broadway! (I mean, shouldn't they?) But until next time, signing off, and may the mouse be with you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Whew! Let me tell you, it took a heck of a lot longer to figure out my part two for this than I expected. But hey, once I did figure it out (at around 6:50 am), it went onto paper, and then the computer, pretty quickly. But I'm sure you don't need me to ramble on the way I did last chapter. Long story short, this part was written in under forty-eight hours, received very little editing, and I my opinion, quite raw. This is one of the first stories I'm trying to convey a message with, the message that the Newsies were fighting for that I think is still very relevant today. That's all I say about it, so go ahead and start reading! I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Newsies and its characters are owned by Disney, and I think that should make lovely Miss Katherine a Disney Princess! Can I get a second?**

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Katherine POV

"You're a traitor, Jack!" It felt like the world was crumbling around me. In one fell swoop, my father had knocked Jack out of the game, all but destroyed his trust in me, and disheartened every Newsie in the city. I could barely breath.

I could just barely see the top of Jack's head as he pushed through the boys. Some of them tried to tackle him, anger and fear clouding their judgement, but he just threw them off. His boys. My heart was breaking. I tried to reach him, but the congestion of Newsies was too thick. He wasn't going to listen to me if I called out. I fell against a wall, feeling utterly defeated. Jack was probably headed to the train station.

"Kat!" I glanced up to see Davey and Racetrack making their way towards me, and a fresh wave of guilt washed over me. What would they do now that their leader had betrayed them?

"Hey, are you all right?" Davey asked, placing a hand on my arm. I sighed and shook my head. He gave me a comforting smile, but I could see the strain in his eyes. He had no clue what to do now. "Look, I don't mean to sound accusing, but you were pretty much the last person to see Jack, to spend time with him, one-on-one."

"Did he say anything?" Racetrack interjected. "Was he actin' weird? Is this all a big trick? It is, ain't it? He's makin' Pulitzer think he's switchin' sides, but really…" I shook my head again. The tiny spark of hope in Race's eyes went out, replaced with anger.

"He's being blackmailed," I said softly. "Pulitzer threatened to throw everyone into the Refuge for who knows how long. Crutchie; all you boys; you, Davey; and Les." The blood drained from Davey's face as he glanced over his shoulder, looking for his little brother. "Pulitzer also said he'd have Jack's criminal record dissolved, and give him money to go to Santa Fe." My voice caught.

"Katherine," Davey said slowly. "How do you know all this? Were you there?" Tears were pricking at my eyes.

"Did you know?" My voice was barely audible. "Did Jack tell you that he was going to see Pulitzer?" Davey pursed his lips and shook his head. My heart was pounding. "I, I need to tell you boys something. I should have told you from the beginning, but I needed you to trust me." Race and Davey both looked at me in confusion. "My name, my name is Katherine Pulitzer. Joseph Pulitzer is my father."

Silence. The boys didn't say anything. Aside from shock, their faces were completely blank. I wanted them to react. To yell at me, to do something. Even if they hated me, I wanted them to tell me so. I didn't think I could handle the silent treatment.

"So…what?" Racetrack wondered, his tone stiff. "You'se is defyin' your, your father, why? To make him mad? To make your name as a reporter? 'Cause you're sweet on Jack?" I must have turned so red, my face felt hotter than the middle of July. "Why are you here, Plums?" Plums. A nickname. I wanted to sob at just that tiny act of mercy.

"I'm here—" I took a deep breath— "I'm here because I believe in what you're doing. My father is wrong about far more than he'd care to admit, and I'm not going to let his mistakes ruin your livelihoods."

"And 'cause you're sweet on Jack?" Racetrack repeated, the smallest hint of a joking smile tugging at his lips. I laughed, wiping away the tears that had built up before sighing and giving Race a look.

"Yes, fine. And because I love Jack." The words were easier to say than I'd ever imagined. It was one of the truest things I knew. "But I also love all of you."

"So, what do you want to do, Kat?" Davey asked. "Do you think you can talk Jack back to us?" I exhaled.

"I don't know," I admitted. "And, I mean, my father means what he says. If Jack joins us again, he'll send all of you to the Refuge. Besides, Jack's not going to trust me." An understanding look entered Davey's eyes.

"He knows, doesn't he? That you're Pulitzer's daughter?"

"My father," I began bitterly, "told Jack, and he made it sound like I'd been spying. I wouldn't trust me either, honestly." Racetrack gave me a small smile.

"He wouldn't have gotten angry if he didn't care about you," he said softly. "Plums, I've known Jack for years. He ain't never been so hung up on a girl as he's been about you. If you can get him to trust you again, he'll listen to you. I know it." I blinked, processing his words.

"Do you trust me?" I wondered. Davey gave me a look like that was the most ridiculous question I could have asked.

"Well, you're still the one who got us onto the front page, right?" I nodded. "And the one who's defying her newspaper-owning father in order to help a gang of ragamuffins she's known barely a week?" A slight smile crossed my lips as I nodded again. "I don't see any reason not to trust her, how 'bout you, Race?" He gave me a scrutinizing look.

"She's been loyal to us so far, Dave. I say we give her a shot." I exhaled a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding as I flung my arms around them.

"Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me." Davey squeezed my shoulder as Racetrack mumbled something about girls being so emotional. I figured I'd forgive him for it, just this once.

"You'd better get going," he said, pulling away.

"Do you have any idea where he'd have gone?" I asked. "I mean, worst case scenario, he's already on the train to Santa Fe, but if not…?"

"His penthouse," Race decided. "Sometimes he comes here to sulk, but obviously that ain't happening. He'd be as close to the sky as he can get." I nodded. "You'd better go. Jack ain't known for thinkin' rationally when he's angry."

"Again, thank you for your trust in me." I bit my tongue; I knew I was wasting time, but I needed one more thing. "Would it be too much to ask you to keep my name a secret, just for now? I'll tell everyone, I promise, but I want to do it." Davey nodded, then gestured for me to go.

I pushed through the rest of the boys and out of the theater. I'd barely made it a block when I saw a familiar face headed towards me. Seitz. The man who'd given Jack the money after he'd fulfilled his part of the deal. I ducked down an ally, praying he hadn't seen me and would pass me by. However, as I backed away, a hand roughly grabbed my shoulder. I shrieked, but another hand covered my mouth. I was pushed forward.

"Katherine, darling, I thought I made myself clear the last time." My father stood in front of me, Seitz on one side, Oscar Delancey on the other, which could only mean… "Morris, you may release my daughter." He let go of me and came around to stand next to his brother, sneering darkly.

"Father, I swear to you, if you send these bastards in after those boys when you specifically swore to Jack they'd be unharmed if he spoke for you, I will—"

"For once in your life, will you hold your tongue?" My father had an arm stretched in front of the angry Delanceys. "This is your last chance, daughter. Come home with me, to your family. You don't belong here."

"You're wrong, Father," I replied. "This is exactly where I belong, with these boys. And, and with Jack. I trust you know that he's not going to stay silent forever?" Was I bluffing? Absolutely. And yet my father's face turned harsh, and was that a glint of fear in his eye?

"Katherine, I'm going to ask this once, only once, and I want you to answer truthfully. Are you in love with Mr. Kelly?"

"Yes." The word came just as easily as when I confessed to Davey and Racetrack. I had a feeling that the same wouldn't hold true when I faced Jack himself. "But so what? Don't you want me to be happy?"

"Think of what you're throwing away," my father warned. "And for what? Some street urchin who never has been nor ever will be worthy of you?" I felt my fists clench.

"I'm not throwing anything away, Father," I insisted. "I'm helping to make a difference in the world, to make it a better place. It just so happens that I found love and a family along the way." My father regarded me coolly.

"So, your brothers and sisters, your mother, they mean nothing to you now?" He may as well have stabbed me.

"I never said that!"

"And you're willing to put all your faith in Mr. Kelly? You really think he'll listen to a word you say, much less love you, after what you did to him?" It was like seeing the betrayal on Jack's face all over again. I blinked back tears, determined to keep everyone, the Delanceys, Seitz, and my father especially, from seeing me cry.

"Enjoy one last look at your world, Father," I all but spat. "We're about to change it forever." I saw my father's jaw clench.

"I will not lose another daughter." I inhaled sharply. He turned to the Delanceys. "Get her into the carriage. She's coming home whether she likes it or not. And if she truly believes she loves that street rat, perhaps it's not completely unrequited. She may be of use if Mr. Kelly does decide to go back on our deal." My blood ran cold.

I barely remember decking Morris Delancey with enough force to make him stumble back into his brother, giving me a head start. The next thing I knew, I was racing down the streets. The Lodging House wasn't far, and I doubted they'd expect me to go there. No, I'd taken a detour, making it look like I was headed for the train station. As soon as I'd shaken the Delanceys, I bolted for the Lodging House.

It was mostly empty, save a few boys who'd fled the rally as soon as things had gone sour. Specs was there, looking after a few of the younger boys. When he caught sight of me, out of breath and probably looking scared half to death, he jumped up to meet me in the sitting room.

"What's the matter, Plums? The bulls, did they…?" I shook my head and he sighed in relief. "Just Jack, then. Well, he ain't back yet. I don't know if he'll ever be again." The sadness in his voice broke my heart all over again.

"I think he will be," I murmured. "I'm going… Racetrack and Davey thought it would be a good idea for me to try and talk to him." Specs brightened slightly.

"Well, hey, that'll work for sure! Jack's crazy about you, ya know. He'd probably give up Santa Fe if you asked him too." I ducked my head to hide my blush as my heart fluttered. Give up Santa Fe? The thought was so tempting, and I couldn't help but wonder if… No. No, this wasn't about me and Jack right now. This was about the Newsies.

"Well, can you show me his penthouse? Racetrack mentioned it, we think it's where he'd go." Specs nodded and guided me out the window to the building's fire escape. I glanced up and immediately understood what Race had meant about Jack wanting to be close to the sky. Specs gestured for me to climb all the way up to the roof, then gave me a wink before ducking back through the window. I took a deep breath and began to climb.

Just like Specs had said, Jack wasn't back yet. I sat down, ready to wait as long as I had to. But the thing about waiting is that it usually leaves you alone with your thoughts, and mine began to whirl. My father. If I had understood him right, he'd planned to use me as leverage against Jack. To use me, his own daughter, the same way he'd used Jack and all the other Newsies, the same way this entire city used its children. Hot tears began to prick at my eyes, and this time, I let them fall.

How many times as a little girl, protected by my parent, had I seen ragged, exhausted children making their way home from another day of dangerous work? How often had I asked where all the beautiful clothes my mother and sisters and I wore came from, only for someone to laugh and tell me it wasn't important. It _was_ important. The rich and powerful were working the poor and defenseless to death, and no one cared. Jack had said it himself, "For the sake of every kid in every sweatshop, factory, and slaughterhouse in this city…".

_In the words of Union leader Jack Kelly_…

I deftly reached into my pocket for one of my scraps of paper and a pencil. The words poured out, all my anger, fear, and even love became words on a page. This wasn't like "Newsies Stop _The World_", where I'd been trying to get the boys on the front page. This was raw. This was for children shining shoes on the streets with no shoes on their feet every day. This was for teenagers sweating blood in the shops while their bosses and cops looked away. This was for kids who were given no voice, and now I was going to make sure no one ever took their voice, our voice away. This was theirs.

I remembered being taught when I was thirteen or so about an international battle in Medieval times. Children who thought they were acting on God's orders had marched into enemy territory to carry out what they believed in. The Children's Crusade. I scribbled the title across the top and sighed before placing it in my pocket. I had no clue what I was going to do with it yet. I stood back up and glanced around.

Sticking out of a tube were rolled up papers of some sort. It was awful of me to snoop, but I couldn't help myself. I pulled one out carefully and inhaled sharply. They were drawings, Jack's, no doubt, just as beautiful as the sketch he'd done of me. But the scenes were terrible. A bunk bed in a corner with a tiny window above it, no less than six boys crowded on the mattresses with no blankets, and rats everywhere. A part of me suspected where this was, but I didn't want to think it.

_"His total disregard for authority has made him a frequent visitor… trafficking stolen food and clothing." _I felt like throwing up. The tears in my eyes dried purely from shock. I glanced between the two pictures, suddenly calmer than I'd been all night. This was it. This was the last piece to Jack's puzzle. I just had to remind him. Or maybe he already knew. No doubt my father would swear to his dying day that Jack Kelly took the deal for the money, but a huge part of the threat had been to throw all of Jack's brothers into this, this place. I had to know for sure.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of climbing. My heart stopped. I knew it was Jack. I went to the far end of the roof, staring at the sketches, but not really seeing them. I had no clue how I was going to talk to Jack, but I had to try. I glanced up slightly to see him so angry it scared me a little. I wouldn't let it show.

"That was some speech you made."

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**My God, you have no idea how hard it was to keep myself from just going in and doing the rooftop scene! Speaking of which, I would love to write one more part to this story that has a little bit of Jack/Katherine post-kiss and maybe even post-Strike. Thoughts? Anyway, I know this one was longer and more intense than the last one, and I was a bit worried about the tone difference since I waited so long to write the second part. I hope you'll let me know what you think! But for now, ****signing off, and may the mouse be with you!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Surprise! I'm back! I had to take a break from from it all I wasn't in a great place mentally for a while and I associated Newsies with it. But I have returned to prime fangirl mode (I can now obsess over multiple fandoms at once) and I decided to give this story one last chapter. Also I have nothing to do because of quarantine. I hope everyone enjoys!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything Newsies. Never have, probably never will (but one can dream!)**

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"You'll really stay then?" I murmured as Jack pulled me off to the sidewalk, away from the other Newsies, who were celebrating and dancing in the street.

"Yeah. This city's worth sticking around after all." I felt so happy that I could have floated right up into the stratosphere. But then Jack was kissing me, keeping me grounded to Earth. The boys didn't interrupt this one, but we still pulled away fairly quickly. We had all the time in the world now.

"So now what?"

"I believe now I offer Mr. Kelly my congratulations." We whirled around to find my father standing right behind us. I blushed, wondering if he had caught our kiss. If he had, he graciously said nothing. "And you as well, Miss Plumber. I must admit, I did not expect you to be such a shrewd journalist."

"Thank you, Mr. Pulitzer," I replied carefully. I could have been seeing things, but there might just have been a glint of pride in his eyes.

"No doubt you would make just a shrewd a businesswoman. Perhaps I should start training you alongside Ralph." I blinked. Was my father really suggesting that one day I could run _The World_? "Mr. Kelly, I expect a response to my offer no later than Monday." And just like that, my father moved on, leaving both me and Jack in some degree of shock.

"He was serious about the job," Jack muttered.

"Hey, Kat." It was Crutchie. He and a group of Newsies stood a ways off, close enough to have heard everything… "What did Pulitzer mean about training you?"

I swallowed hard. Jack's hand slid down my arm to give my hand a squeeze. I had to tell them. I had promised Davey and Racetrack. I supposed now was as good a time as any. But oh, why did they all have to be watching me?

"Boys, I, I have something to tell you. All of you." They gathered closer. Even Spot Conlon seemed intrigued. "A few of you already know that I, that I am Joseph Pulitzer's daughter. My name is Katherine Pulitzer. I am so, so sorry that I deceived you. I assure you; I have been loyal to all of you throughout the entire Strike."

"She tellin' the truth, Jackie?" one boy called out. I supposed he was within his rights to not trust me, but did he really need Jack's opinion? Jack, however, took a step back, letting me stand on my own.

"You'se all gotta believe her for yourselves, fellas." That may have been the sweetest thing he'd done for me. A moment passed, then Crutchie stepped forward.

"Her words got me outta the Refuge," he said softly. "They put Snyder in jail. They'se gonna make sure that no one ever has to go to that damned place again. And—" he grinned slyly— "I'se never seen Jack so happy. So yeah, I believe you Kat. And thank you."

"Oh, Crutchie." I threw my arms around him. At long last, my words were making an impact. "Thank _you_."

"Guess we got a new King of New York!" spot crowed. "All hail our Lady of the Upper East Side, Katherine Pulitzer!" The applause that the Newsies broke into filled my heart. I couldn't tell if I was crying or laughing. Probably both.

"Thank you, thank you all so much!" The clapping died down. "Although I hope I can always be Katherine Plumber to you boys."

"You got it, Plums!" Racetrack replied.

"Alright! Enough of you standing around like mops! These papes ain't gonna sell themselves!" At Jack's command, everyone dispersed. "As for you, Lady of the Upper East Side." He slid his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder. "Let my walk you home?"

"Don't you have papes to sell?" I asked with a smile.

"Eh, let the fellas have a head start. I'll still have them beat by the time we sell out." I laughed. "My lady." Jack offered his arm like a proper gentleman.

"Why, thank you, kind sir."

"We headed up Sixth?"

"No, actually. Contrary to Mr. Conlon's belief, I do not live in the Upper East Side. Not anymore anyway. I have my own place at the Henry Street Settlement."

"What, the Lower East Side?" I nodded, quietly enjoying the shock look on Jack's face. He looked me up and down as though sizing me up. "You live all alone at what, sixteen?"

"Seventeen, thank you very much. Eighteen come January. And I have a roommate." I smoothed a wisp of hair back behind my ear. "I moved out when I decided to become a journalist. I wanted a fresh start, to not be associated with the Pulitzer name. I just wanted to be Katherine. It took months to convince my mother."

How do you pay?" I reddened slightly; I had always been taught that money was not a fit topic for conversation. But this was Jack.

"Well, there's the money I make for my articles. I do a little work as a seamstress, and a few of the girls at the settlement have kids that I'll teach reading or arithmetic to a few times a week.

"Huh. Didn't picture you to be a seamstress," was Jack's only remark.

We walked in silence for a few more blocks. I had never had a romantic relationship before, and certainly never expected to have one like this. Despite my desire to make my own name for myself, I had always figured that at some point I would have to return to society. And then there would have been suitors from respectable families and proper courting etiquette to observe. But this, just walking arm-in-arm with Jack, this was what I imagined a normal relationship to be like. Just a girl and a boy.

"Hah!" Jack suddenly exclaimed triumphantly.

"What is it?"

"I told you, you need a nickname, remember?" I smiled, thinking back to that conversation at Medda's. "Well, I've thought of one."

"I think the others beat you to it. Racetrack's been calling me Plums, and I can't imagine that it won't catch on."

""Well, that can be their name for you. But I've got one just for me." Jack's eyes sparkled mischievously. "You wanna guess?"

"Is it Kitty? 'Cause I have to tell you, that's what my family calls me, and I really don't want you calling me that too." Jack smirked and shook his head. How was it possible that his smirk made me want to kiss him and deck him all at the same time? It would be the death of me, that was for sure. "Alright, I've got nothing. What is it?"

"Ace."

"Ace," I echoed, my heart beating a little faster. "Why?" I was pretty sure I already knew the answer. I just wanted to hear him say it.

"You said before that you were the ace up my sleeve." We came to a stop by a stack of crates where we had relative privacy from the other pedestrians. "Not to mention, you'se is gonna be an ace reporter someday."

"For sure?"

"For sure." I would never get sick of hearing him say those words, just like I would never get sick of the taste of his lips. He leaned down to kiss me, and I edited what I had told the Newsies at Jacobi's. Fame may work quicker than liquor, but Jack's kisses worked the quickest.

""So, do I get to give you a nickname?" I murmured as I pulled away. He inclined his head and we started walking again. I stared at him hard for a few moments. "Cowboy."

"Really?" he laughed.

"Yep. You're gonna get to Santa Fe someday, Jack. Even if it's not to stay."

"Oh, who need New Mexico? I've got my Santa Fe right here." Honestly, he was better with words than I was. "Hey, who's Ralph?"

"Hmm?"

"Ralph? Your dad said he might start training you along with him? Who is he? Is your father tryin' to match you up with him?" I laughed at the hint of jealousy in his voice.

"Ralph is my older brother. My father's been training him to take over _The World_." Jack chuckled slightly, turning adorably pink around the ears.

"Oh."

"Bill on the other hand, well, our fathers have been trying to match us up since we were born." Jack's face turned hard, and I laughed again. It was just too fun to tease him. "I'm kidding! Bill and I don't feel that way about each other. We're just friends."

"You sure? He was pretty quick to join the Strike when _you_ asked him to." I rolled my eyes.

"Oh please. Bill's been waiting to rebel against his father since Mr. Hearst put an end to his theater dreams. Believe me, Jack, you have nothing to worry about."

"I'm just saying, a smart, gorgeous, independent girl like you. Fella would be a fool to not wanna snatch you up."

"Excuse me." I put my hands on my hips with mock offense. "I will not be snatched up, Mr. Kelly, not even by you." His smirk came back.

"Oh, I don't need to snatch you up. Not when I've already swept you off your feet." He scooped me up as though I weighed nothing and spun me around. I couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm quite sure it was me doing the sweeping. You were a goner the moment you laid eyes on me, admit it." Jack set me back on my feet and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"Happily, Miss Plumber." His lips dipped to hover right by my ear. "Love at first sight ain't for suckers after all." I bit my lip and ducked my head.

"I believe you are right."

* * *

**Ah, nothing better than good, pure fanfiction. With all this time on my hands, I have a feeling I'll be doing more publishing in the future. I do love polishing old writing. I hope everyone is staying safe and inside if you can. I hope that this may have brightened your day, even a little bit. It's the little things that are going to get us through this. Until next time, signing off, and may the mouse be with you!**


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